Owner of a Lonely Heart
by quietandsneaky
Summary: AU. When he was four years old, Dean Winchester died in a mysterious house fire, changing the lives of his parents and brother forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. **

**A/N: I'm still planning to finish Reverse Engineering, but this story called to me first. I haven't completely decided if it'll be multiple chapters or just a one shot. I do have other chapters written in my head, but I need to do some planning with them and see if I really want to keep going with it. Basically, in this story, Dean died in the house fire instead of Mary. **

Six-year-old Sammy Winchester sat in his uncle Bobby's front yard, underneath the big tree that he used as an unofficial sandbox. This was his favorite place when he stayed with Bobby. It was his own, and no one ever bothered him out here.

Not there was anyone around to bother him lately.

Sammy was out of school for the summer. Unlike most kids, though, that made him sad. In school, he could learn stuff and distract himself from how lonely he always felt. Lonely because most of the time, his mommy and daddy were away from him.

That feeling of loneliness had gotten worse today at the park. Uncle Bobby had taken him to play, and for a while, he'd had fun. Bobby pushed him on the swings, ran around kicking a soccer ball with him, and helped him across the monkey bars a few times. Bobby had then told Sammy he needed to go rest on the park bench for a few minutes, but Sammy could keep playing as long as he stayed where Bobby could see him.

As Sammy walked back to push himself on the swings, he noticed something that made him stop. A mommy pushing her little boy on the other end of the swing set. Sammy took a swing of his own, but didn't push himself on it. He watched the mommy and the little boy closely. As the little boy would get close to his mom, she'd hold the swing with one hand and tickle him with the other, then send him swinging. The little boy would laugh, and the mommy would do it again. After a few times of doing that, the mommy stepped in front of the swing, pulled the little boy off of it, and held him tightly to her chest. As he watched them walk away, Sammy's heart started to hurt.

Why couldn't his mommy pay attention to him like that?

The two of them had been gone for days. They'd called a few times, but mostly it had been him and Bobby. Bobby tried to cheer him up, but Sammy still missed his parents. He wanted them home, with him. But as he thought about how he was feeling, he remembered something that made him feel a little bit better.

Mommy had promised they'd be back that night. And, as she always said, you don't make a promise unless it's important.

Bobby came out from the house and spotted Sammy sitting underneath the tree. He sighed and watched for a minute before going over there. The little boy looked so lost, so pained, so lonely that Bobby could barely stand it. He thought of Sam as his own little boy, who he shared with John and Mary, but there were times he could kick John and Mary's collective asses. They left on hunts so frequently that Sam spent more time with him and in hotel rooms than he did with his own parents. It wore down the sensitive kid's heart. Bobby decided to stop staring at Sam and go on and get it over with.

"Hey, bud. Time to come inside and get ready for bed."

"But I gotta wait for Mommy. She promised she'd be here tonight."

Bobby frowned. "Buddy, I don't think they're coming back tonight."

"They will. Mommy promised. She said you're not supposed to make promises unless it's important. Please, uncle Bobby?"

"Tell you what. Come inside and get a bath and get your PJs on, but you don't have to go to bed until your parents are home. But you can't stay out here."

"You swear I don't have to go to bed?" Sam asked.

"Pinkie swear." Bobby said, offering Sam his pinkie finger.

Sam entwined his pinkie finger in Bobby's and smiled. "Deal!"

It was partially a trick, one Bobby felt bad about but was necessary. He knew that once Sam had been given a warm bath, he was done for the night. He might stay up another hour or so, but would conk out on the couch and Bobby would have to carry him up to bed. Bobby couldn't really call Mary and John, as they'd left the motel room they'd been using, so he hoped that, once Sam was dressed and on the couch in front of a kids' movie he'd seen a thousand times, they would somehow miraculously come through the door before Sam nodded off.

No such luck.

Bobby carried the sleeping Sam to his 'bedroom', one of Bobby's two spare rooms that he'd converted into a playroom for Sam's sixth birthday. Though random hunters would sometimes come through and rest overnight at Bobby's, there were never enough of them that he needed two rooms. If there were, they could sleep on Bobby's couch. After laying the boy down to sleep on the Sesame Street bed Bobby had found him while dumpster diving one day, Bobby snuck a quick kiss on Sam's cheek, then cursed Mary and John under his breath.

"Damn idjits."

The Impala rumbled and pulled into Bobby's driveway, much later than John and Mary had hoped they would be. Mary knew that Sammy would likely be upset, unless Bobby had told him something to satisfy the precocious little boy. She had a feeling, though, that he hadn't bothered. Bobby had little patience for her and John breaking promises to Sam. They'd done it before, completely unintentionally, but Bobby had made it clear to them.

"You promise that kid something and you don't deliver, you idjits are gonna deal with the fallout."

As John turned off the engine, he looked to Mary. "You okay?"

Mary sighed deeply and said, "Sammy's gonna be so upset."

"I know. But we tried. We couldn't make it back in time."

"I know. I just feel bad getting his hopes up and then letting him down. We already can't spend a lot of time with him."

"I know, babe. But we're here now. For at least two days. Let's just make the most of it."

"Yeah. You're right." Mary said. She leaned back against the seat, against her better judgment, and relished the comfort. "Good hunt, Clyde."

"Good hunt, Bonnie." 

Mary smiled. "What do you say we go up and get some sleep? Sammy's always up pretty early."

"That sounds like a good plan."

"Let's go."

Mary walked up the steps and inside Bobby's house, arm in arm with John. The hunt had been brutal, and they were both exhausted. John decided he wanted to take a shower that night, so Mary laid on the bed waiting for him to return. As she waited on him to return, her mind drifted to the same thought it had whenever she was alone.

Dean.

Mary still felt Dean's loss every second of every day. There were moments, blessed and peaceful, when the pain was nothing more than a minor, dull ache. And then there were moments, mostly when she was alone, when the pain would nearly kill her. She remembered everything about Dean in vivid detail, which was both a blessing and a curse. It hurt in the moments when she ached to have her baby back, but comforted her at the same time.

"Mommy?"

Mary jumped. For a brief second, she thought she was hearing things. _Dean?_

"Mommy? You're back?"

_Not Dean. Sammy_. Mary felt a small sting of disappointment, but smiled at Sammy in the doorway. "Hi, baby. Yeah, we're back."

"You promised you'd be back before I went to bed." Sammy said sadly, gripping his teddy bear in one arm to stop himself from crying like a baby.

"I know, sweetpea. I'm so sorry."

"Can I sleep with you and Daddy?"

"You sure can. Come here."

Sammy climbed into bed next to Mary, allowing her to cuddle him, just like he'd wanted her too when he watched the mommy earlier at the park. He felt safest when he was with his parents, and he just wished they would stay around long enough for him to feel this way for a while.

"So how you doing, kiddo?"

"'m okay." Sammy said with a yawn. "I missed you and Daddy."

"We missed you too." Mary said. "I'm really sorry we didn't make it back."

"What happened?"

"We just couldn't make it back, baby." Mary said. "But I promise we tried."

"'Kay, Mommy." Sammy said.

"Why don't you lay down and get some sleep, honey?" Mary suggested. "Daddy and I are all yours tomorrow."

"All day long?"

"All day long."

"Yay!" Sammy said. "Can I wait for Daddy before I go to sleep?"

"Sure. You want me to sing to you?"

"Yes, please."

Ten minutes later, after John had joined them and hugged Sammy himself, the three of them were drifting off into a deep sleep, each preoccupied with their own dreams. In the corner of the room, an unseen but familiar face watched them.

"Goodnight, Mommy and Daddy. Night, Sammy. Stay safe."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Warning-the beginning of this chapter describes the night that Dean died from Mary's POV. The next couple of chapters will be some intense angsty fighting between Sam and his parents. John is more involved after this chapter. **

_1983_

_Mary woke a split second before she heard it. Dean's ear-splitting scream coming from down the hall. John, who was sleeping beside her, was still stirring when she jumped out of bed and ran. Dean had woken up crying before, from nightmares, but this was different. This wasn't a sleepy, dreamlike crying. Dean was terrified and, from the sound of it, in pain. She first checked his room, but he wasn't in there. She then went to Sammy's room, where she found a content Sam cooing up at her. _

"_Hey, buddy. You okay?" _

_Just when she started to think that she was hearing things, something dripped from the ceiling onto the pillow next to Sam. She had just realized it was blood when she looked up. To the image that would remain burned in her brain for the rest of her life. _

_Dean. _

_It would take months before she could fully process what she'd seen. Dean was bleeding, mouthing something, already close to being gone. The second after she'd seen him, the fire erupted. Mary screamed for Dean, trying to find a way to get to him and help him, but John was slightly faster. He grabbed Sammy out of the crib and handed him to Mary. _

"_Mary! It's too late! Dean's gone!" _

"_No…" _

"_Mary! You have to get Sam out of here! GO! Now!" _

Mary had woken out of that dream to John worried about her. When she'd told him that it was the same one she'd had countless times before, they both knew what they had to do. Sam reacted just the way Mary had predicted.

"No way!"

Mary moved through the house, picking up the odds and ends that they were going to need, biting her tongue to keep her patience in check. She'd known that telling Sam they were moving again wouldn't go over well, and she was right.

"Sammy, we don't have time for this right now. Get your bag and get in the car."

"NO!" Sam was close to hysterical. "No. You promised me, Mom. One year. One year with no moving."

Mary stopped what she was doing and took a close look at Sam for the first time since he'd gotten home. The hurt and disappointment nearly made her forget the move. But they had to go.

"Mom, please. You promised. It's only been six weeks."

"I know. Sammy, I know I did, and I'm so sorry. I honestly thought this place was safe enough to stay for a while. But it's not."

"So, again, you guys are breaking your word to me."

Mary balled her fists at her sides and took a long, deep breath. "Sammy, listen to me. We cannot have this fight right now. It's too dangerous. When we get in the car and get away, you can yell, scream, argue, whatever you want. But right now, you need to get your bag and get in the car because, and I'm sorry for this, we are leaving. Now. Do you understand me?"

"I'm not leaving." Sam said with a shaky voice. "You can't keep doing this to me." 

"Sam." Sam turned and saw his father standing in the doorway, looking just as regretful but much less patient than his mother. "Listen to your mother and get your stuff in the car."

"Dad…"

"Now, Sam. I ask you again, you're not gonna like what happens."

Sam wanted to fight more, but he knew it was useless. Without looking at either parent, he grabbed his already packed duffle bag off the floor and headed for the car. He threw the bag in the backseat of the car and climbed inside, slamming the door behind him. John and Mary watched as Sam put his seatbelt on then crossed his arms and glared at nothing in particular.

"Do you think I'm overreacting?" Mary asked.

"No. Every time you've had that dream, we've gotten a call and a lead on the demon. We have to go."

"How about if one of us…"

"No. We tried one of us staying here with Sam, obviously it didn't work. We're safer when we stay together." 

"I know. I just…"

"Hey." John took Mary's hand in his own and placed the other hand behind her head, something that always calmed her nerves when she worried about Sam. "Sam will be fine. He'll be upset for a little while, but I promise he'll be okay."

"You really think so? He had his heart set on this place. He was so happy when we told him he could stay."

"I know. I know he was. He deserves that, but we just can't do it now. It's too dangerous."

"I know." Mary said. "I know. I do."

"We will give him a home. It will happen." John said. "You have to believe that."

"I do. I just wish I could get him to believe it."

Sam snuck glances at his parents talking inside and felt sick to his stomach. He'd never admit it, but he was jealous of them. He wished he had their ability to just pick up and leave a place without getting attached to anyone. He'd had a feeling two months earlier when Mary had told him they'd be staying in one place that it was too good to be true. But he'd been stupid enough, at least in his mind, to think it was, and he'd allowed himself to make friends and get comfortable at school. He could tell that John wasn't happy with it, but Sam didn't care.

Another thought crossed his mind. Sam had a girlfriend here. He'd met Abby the first day of school, and she'd helped him get used to life at his new school. She'd grown up in this town from the day she was born, and knew all the cool places to hang out, all the nooks and crannies of the small town they lived in. Sam hadn't told his parents about Abby, choosing to hang out with her when they were off on a case or resting up from a case. He knew it was stupid, at twelve years old, to think that he was really in love with Abby. But he was. And now, he was leaving her. It hurt.

John and Mary climbed into the car, laughing about something, pissing Sam off even more. John went to start the car, but Mary placed a hand on his arm to stop him. She turned towards Sam and apologized again.

"Sam, we're sorry for this. We really are. We never should've promised you we could stay here when we weren't sure. And I promise we wouldn't leave unless it was absolutely necessary. Okay?"

"Okay." Sam said quietly. He really wanted to ignore his mother, give her the silent treatment, but that was the quickest way to ensure his father's wrath on him.

"We're gonna drive most of the day and stop tonight. If there's something you want to stop and see, let us know and we'll stop. Okay?"

"What I want doesn't seem to matter at all, so why would I say anything?" Sam asked bitterly, cursing himself for the tears that were falling against his will.

John, whose patience was short and temper was about to explode, snapped. "Samuel, that's enough."

"John, it's okay." Mary said. "Sam, please just trust…"

Sam scoffed. "Trust you? Please don't ask me to trust you. Not now."

"Fair enough. I meant what I said, though. If you want to stop somewhere, let us know."

John started the car and headed off towards their next destination. No one spoke, Sam in the back brooding, John focused on getting to where they were going, and Mary hoping that she hadn't lost Sam's trust in her forever. _This is going to be the longest car ride of our lives,_ Mary thought to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Just a warning-there's an argument between Sam and his parents in this chapter that gets pretty heated. Hurtful words are thrown around on both sides. **

It was close to midnight, and John had driven almost straight through. Mary had tried to remind Sam once an hour or so to let them know if he wanted to stop, only to be met with "I'm fine" each time. They arrived at the apartment building managed by a former hunter friend of theirs. Their new apartment was small, but perfect for their current needs. The manager had worked with them on hunts before, so they were confident that Sam would be taken care of if they needed to leave on a hunt. There were two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen, and a living room. John went up to check the apartment while Mary sat in the car with a sleeping Sam.

As John walked up to the apartment, Mary stared at Sam. She knew what she and John were doing was completely unfair to Sam. It wasn't the first time that Sam had fought them on moving or being away. The fighting was bad enough, but the pain in Sam's eyes every time she told him his life was being uprooted or Mom and Dad were letting him down yet again drove a spike through her heart. Sam didn't think Mary understood, but she did. He was twelve, and wanted a stable life. He wanted friends, and just wanted his parents there with him. He was old enough now to take care of himself, but he didn't want to have to do it all the time. She understood all that completely.

The problem was, as always, Dean. Every time she thought about quitting hunting and being a full time Mom for Sam, she'd feel guilty for considering abandoning the hunt for Dean's killer. So on and on they went, a vicious cycle causing nothing but pain and misery for all of them. Mary reached a hand into the backseat where Sam was sleeping and pushed some of his shaggy hair out of his face.

"I'm sorry, baby."

John came back out and told Mary the place was safe. Sam, who was still half asleep, didn't put up much of a fight when Mary woke him up. Sam went straight to the couch in the living room of the apartment and fell asleep. The next morning, he reluctantly helped Mary unpack their meager possessions. They didn't have much, so the job was done before lunchtime. As Mary fixed them all lunch, she noticed Sam writing something.

"What are you working on, honey?"

"A letter." Sam said.

"Letter to who?" Mary asked, curiously.

"A friend." Sam said shortly.

Mary sighed; so Sam was still upset. "Sam, you can't send that letter."

Sam gripped the pencil in his hand. "Why not?"

"Because your mother said so." John answered, walking in the door from coming back to get groceries.

"It's too dangerous, Sam." Mary said. She watched John tense up; he hated explaining things to Sam, who John believed should listen to them simply because they were his parents.

Sam put down his pencil and closed his notebook. "Fine."

"Sam…"

"It's fine, Mom." Sam said evenly. "I get it. No friends."

"I'm sorry, Sam…"

"Please stop saying that." Sam said. "Please just stop. It doesn't help."

"Enough. I've had enough." John said, jumping in. "Sam, this is getting old."

"What's getting old?"

"Your bad attitude towards me and your mother. You do this every time we have to move. You know it's coming, yet you still act like it's a complete surprise."

"Because it was!" Sam shouted. "You guys promised me that we'd stay this time. One year. You swore to me, and you broke that promise."

"Yes, Sam, we did. Your mother and I investigated that place and thought it would be safe enough to stay. We did that for you. Unfortunately, it wasn't as safe as we thought. I'm sorry that it didn't work out, but moping and making your mother feel guilty is not going to help anyone."

"I'm not trying to help you. And maybe you should both feel guilty, since obviously I can't trust a word either of you says."

"Watch your tone with me, boy." John said. He had nowhere near the patience Mary did for Sam's attitude.

"So I shouldn't expect you two to keep your word? I should just say 'yeah, sure, Mom, Dad, it's totally fine that you got my heart set on being able to have some friends and a normal life for once and then took it away'. Is that what you want?"

"Yes, actually. That is what I want. Along with a much better attitude from you."

"Fine." Sam said, grabbing his notebook and heading back to his room.

"Samuel, I mean it. This stops now. You can be as pissed off with me and your mother as you want, but you will keep a civil tongue in your mouth. That means answering us when we ask you a question, no eye-rolling, no sarcasm, no anything other than answering the question. Understood?"

"Understood."

"You seem to forget, Sam, but you are still a child here. Our child. You are too old to be throwing tantrums. You will respect us whether you want to or not."

"Funny how I'm a child when it's convenient for you." Sam said defiantly.

Thrown by Sam's continued attitude towards him, John asked, "What exactly does that mean?"

"When it comes to doing what you tell me to do when you tell me to do it, then I'm a kid. But when it comes time for me to do stuff I should get to do _because _I'm a kid, then I'm too old."

"What kind of things, Sam?" Mary asked, speaking for the first time since John had gotten involved. "What kinds of things do you want to do that your father and I haven't let you do?"

"I've never had or been to a sleepover because I can't keep friends long enough. I've never had a birthday party with anyone other than the two of you. Every time I ask if we can take a trip anywhere, we can't go because you two get a hunt or say it's too dangerous. If I want you to come to something at school or just be home with me, same thing. You might say yes, but you give it up the second someone _might _be dying."

"You are absolutely unbelievable." John seethed. "I'm so sorry that your mother and I saving people's lives gets in the way of what _you_ want, Sam. It's nice to know we have such a selfish son."

"John…"

"No, Mary. He needs to hear the truth." John turned back to Sam. "What's with the gaping mouth, Sam? Can't take the honesty?"

"_I'm_ selfish?" Sam asked. "I'm sorry it's so bad for you and Mom to have a kid who actually needs his parents around. I didn't realize it was so hard on _you_. I didn't realize I _asked _to be your kid."

"Here's another truth, Sam." John said, and Mary grabbed his arm to beg him not to continue. John shook Mary away from him. "Your mother and I used to love coming home to you after a hunt. It made everything we did worth it. Now? All we feel coming home is dread."

"What?"

"You heard me. Dread. We get a pit in our stomach at the thought of coming home. Because every time we do, you are upset about us not being there for you in some way or another. I don't know why you seem to think that you need to remind me and your mother what awful parents we are to you. We get it, Sam. You get the short end of the stick here. But here's the problem. When I do get home, every single time, I try to spend time with you. I offer to take you fishing, I offer to go to a movie with you, I offer to do anything that you want to do. But you are so pissed off with us that you turn it down. You'd rather bitch and moan and complain about the nine times we aren't here for you than enjoy the one time that we are."

Sam said nothing, not willing to admit that John had a point. John usually did offer to do something with him when they got back from a hunt. But Sam was so used to being let down that it was hard to trust that John meant what he said. John's admission hurt. As angry as he usually was with his parents nowadays, he never dreaded them coming home.

"Anything else to say, Sam?"

"No." Sam answered quietly.

"No, what?"

"No, sir."

"You know why your mother and I fight." John said. "And anytime you're wanting to complain, just remember that."

"For Dean? Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know. Because when he died, he took the both of you with him."

John grabbed Mary a split second before she landed on Sam. She had launched at him the second Sam had mentioned Dean. Sam stepped back, shocked at his mother's sudden turn on him. Gone was the guilt from Mary's face, replaced with the look of an angry, fierce, protective mother. But, as Sam noted, the protectiveness wasn't there for him. It was turned against him.

"How dare you. Bringing your brother up in an argument about you getting what you want. Your father's right. You're nothing more than a selfish, inconsiderate child."

Tears glimmered on the edge of Sam's eyes, that he refused to let spill.

"Now we were going to give you a choice about this. But you just lost that choice. So, here's what's going to happen. You are not going back to school."

"What?"

"You are not going back to school. Public school, that is. You are going to be homeschooled from now on."

"No!" Sam begged.

"Yes. You don't get a choice anymore. Because maybe, just maybe, if we take away what you love, you'll understand at least a fraction of what it's like for me and your father day in and day out when it comes to your brother. You are going to be homeschooled. When one or both of us is home, we will check your work. You will keep your grades at the same level they are in public school, or there will be consequences. When we're not home, Jesse will check on you every day and make sure you're doing what you're supposed to be doing. If he tells us that you're not, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You will stay in your room. You will have your books for the assignments you are working on then and that's it. When you're done, we will take those and you will have nothing but your bed and linens and a notebook. Which you will use to write lines that we will give you, as many times as we tell you to write them. Got it?"

Sam merely nodded. His mother had never been this angry with him, and it was frightening for him. He tried not to be scared of her, but he couldn't help it.

"Good. Let me make something very clear here, Sam. I was willing to work with you until you brought up your brother to try and hurt me and your father. That's where your line is. And while you may think that what we're doing now is cruel, if you cross it again, you will not like us in ways that you never dreamed were possible. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now get your ass to your room and stay there. And think about the fact that you have a mother and a father out here who do the best that they can to help other people and be there for you too. When and if your attitude towards me and your father drastically improves, we will _talk _about you being able to do anything other than staying in your room."

"Go, Sam." John advised, still holding onto a fiercely shaking Mary.

Sam turned and ran towards his room, abandoning the notebook on the counter. John released Mary when he heard Sam's door shut, and only relaxed the slightest bit when he saw she wouldn't chase after him.

"You okay?"

"No." Mary said. "No, I'm not."

"I can see that. You did good though."

"I don't need you to tell me that." Mary snapped, then immediately regretted it.

With Sam out of the room, the momentum of the argument was fading, and the first bit of guilt was starting to take hold. She'd seen the fear in his eyes. She and Sam had been so close when he was younger. When she was home, he would crawl into bed with her and snuggle into her side at some point. He would playfully squeeze between his parents when they were kissing, telling John that these were 'my mommy's kisses, not yours.' His eyes would light up when the car appeared in the driveway, and he would eagerly run for his mother first, then graciously allow his father to have his own round of kisses and snuggles.

Where was that little boy now?

Mary knew the answer, of course. He was buried under years of broken promises and relocations and disappointments, most of which she and John had caused. Sam was still a little boy at heart, one who wanted his Mommy and Daddy to be there. He saw other kids his own age that had at least one stable adult in their lives, and he just wanted a piece of that for himself. To know that when he woke up, someone would be there. Sam had been dead on in his assessment. When Dean died, he had taken Sam's parents away from him too. Something Bobby had said to her years earlier floated back to her memory. It was the first time after telling Sam the truth about what they did and the supernatural that they'd left him with Bobby to go on a hunt. Sam had been having nightmares, and Mary had been upset that Bobby hadn't told them.

"_He can always call me if he needs to talk, Bobby." _

"_A phone call can't hug or hold him, you dumb idjit. That's what the kid wants. He wants his mommy and daddy to chase the monsters away." _

That summed it up for Mary. _He wants his mommy and daddy to chase the monsters away_. But they'd let other people do that for Sammy for far too long, and Sam had almost given up on asking them to help.

"Mary?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go talk to him?" John asked.

"No. Not right now." Mary said. "We all said some pretty rough things. Let's take a little time, and we'll go see him in a while."

"There was truth in what we told Sam, though. Mary, this nasty attitude of his has to stop. It doesn't help anything."

"I know." Mary said. "I know that. I do. But there's got to be something we can do to help him. He's hurting so badly and he has no real way to let it out."

"Let's finish lunch and take him some. If he'll talk to us then, and be civil about it, we'll hash it out. If not, we'll wait a little."

"Civil? Was telling him that we dread coming back to him civil, John?"

"Was I wrong?" John asked. "You said it yourself the last time we were on a hunt. That you don't look forward to coming home anymore."

"That doesn't make it any less cruel to tell him that." Mary said. "And I don't appreciate you using something I told you in confidence to hurt him."

"You're right. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry. And I'll tell him I'm sorry."

Mary nodded. "I just hope he'll hear us."

In his sparse room, Sam couldn't help the tears now. How had things gotten so bad so fast? He was twelve years old. And all he wanted was to be twelve. Why was that so bad? All he'd been doing when the fight started was writing a letter to Abby. One he would probably have never mailed in the first place. In the corner, Sam spotted a photo in a frame, one that he normally kept on his nightstand. In it, he was just a couple of days old, and it was the only picture he had of his entire family. Mary was on a hospital bed, his dad stood her, and on the bed, holding onto a newborn Sam, was a beaming Dean. Mary had told him at three years old, when he'd started asking questions about the mysterious boy in the family's photos, that Dean had loved the picture, so Sam took it as his own. He crossed the room and picked up the photo, scowling at it in his hands.

"I hate you." he said. "You took my mom and dad from me. I hate you."

He wanted to throw the picture, break it, burn it, anything to get it out of his sight. But he was afraid of incurring his parents' wrath even further. He'd already lost his ability to go to school and have friends because of what he'd said about Dean in the kitchen, and he shuddered to think what they would do if he destroyed one of the only two photos left of Dean. So instead, he shoved it back into his duffel bag and sat back on his bed, allowing himself to feel miserable and dream of his younger days, just like Mary was doing in that kitchen at the same moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I have a few notes to give in this chapter. **

**First off, sorry it's taken longer than normal to put up. This chapter didn't exactly go the way I intended it to, but I like the way it turned out. It was harder to finish than I thought it would be. **

**I got a question asking if this would be a family drama story or a supernatural story. My answer is both, but it will be mostly family drama. That's just my comfort zone, and what I feel I write the best. The ratio will be around 95/5 in favor of family drama. It will deal with the story of Supernatural, but focus on Sam's relationship with his parents. **

**I was also asked if Dean would appear in this story. Yes. He's in this chapter in a special way. This is an important warning, though-this chapter tells the story of Dean's death from Dean's POV. **

**Finally, I was asked if this story would extend into the show or if it would be entirely preseries. I am **_**planning**_** on it being entirely preseries, but I won't say exactly where I'm planning to end it.**

**I know the fight in the fight in the last chapter, the fight between Sam, John, and Mary was kind of rough. Don't worry-I'm not planning to leave things between them that bad. That does not mean that things won't happen later in the story (hint hint), but that's all I'll say right now. As my favorite Doctor Who character likes to say, spoilers.**

Dean had wondered when it would happen. When Sammy would hate him for what Mommy and Daddy had done after he died. He hated it, but if he revealed himself to Mommy and Daddy, they'd send him away. That couldn't happen. His family still needed him.

Part of Dean wanted to yell at Sam for being so mean to their parents. He wanted to scream that it wasn't fair that he didn't get to grow up normal either. He was only four years old, and would never get any older. Sam had already gotten to do things that he would never get to do. He'd started school. He'd lost all his baby teeth. He'd gotten to learn to read and write. So many things that Dean would never get to do. But then Dean would think about all the things he had gotten that Sammy didn't, and he'd feel bad for wanting to get mad at Sam. He'd had a mommy and a daddy there for him all the time. Without them, Dean had come to learn, none of the other stuff meant much.

Dean had figured out, almost right away, that he was dead and he was a ghost. It scared him at first, and he didn't know how he'd learned to be a ghost so quickly, but it seemed to come naturally to him. He could lay a hand on his Mommy when she was crying and talk to her without her hearing him. It seemed to comfort her some, but Dean never dared to go any further. It had scared him the first time he'd found his Daddy crying. He was drinking the weird brown stuff that Daddy had always kept locked up before and forbidden Dean to even touch. He sounded strange, but was hugging Dean's teddy bear and was crying

Dean could see that Sam was lonely, and he wished he could help. He still loved Sam as much as he always had, even though Sam was now technically older than he was. Dean spent a lot of time thinking about the night he'd died. When his family was asleep, it was the only thing he really could think about. As he stood in the corner of Sammy's new room, he thought about it again.

_1983_

_Dean always woke up when Sammy started whining, and tonight was no different. As soon as he heard Sammy's little cries through the wall connecting their two rooms, he got up and walked over to Sammy's room._

"'_m coming, Sammy." _

_But when Dean got to the doorway of Sammy's room, there was already someone there. At first, with how sleepy Dean was, it looked like Daddy. Dean was surprised, but happy he could go back to sleep. _

"_Daddy, you got him?" _

_Daddy shushed him, which normally annoyed Dean, but he figured that Sammy was going back to sleep. Dean shrugged, then headed off back to his room. Down the hall, he saw something. The light on the hallway wall flickering. Curious, Dean walked over and looked at it for a minute, then shrugged again. It wasn't all that interesting. _

_But something else caught his attention then. He heard the TV downstairs. Mommy hated it when it was left on all night, like Daddy sometimes did. Trying to keep his Daddy out of trouble with Mommy, Dean walked downstairs to go and turn the TV off. Dean was at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed it. _

_Daddy was in the chair asleep. Not in Sammy's room._

_Dean would later wonder why he hadn't woken his Daddy up to tell him that there was a strange man in Sammy's room. He'd end up wondering about it forever. But instead of waking his Daddy up, Dean ran back up the stairs to Sammy's room. The stranger was still there, hovering over Sammy's bed. Dean gathered his courage and ran in, wrapping his arms around the stranger's legs and trying to pull him off Sammy. _

"_Leave my brother alone!" _

_The next thing Dean knew, he was flying through the air straight to the wall behind him. He landed with a hard thud and was climbing, faster and faster, up towards the ceiling. Dean was too scared to say anything, until he was finally on the ceiling looking down directly into Sam's crib. While it was Dean's job to keep Sam safe and keep him from being scared, Dean was too scared himself now to do anything for Sam. _

"_MOMMY!"_

_Dean never knew anything else. His stomach hurt a lot, his pajama shirt felt wet underneath him, and he saw his mommy run in to check on Sammy. As his eyes faded to black and he slipped into unconsciousness, Dean's last thought was wondering why it had gotten so hot in the room and why Mommy was screaming his name. _

Back in Sammy's room, Dean felt a tear escaping his eyes that he wiped away. He didn't like thinking about the night he died, but he couldn't make it stop. It came whether he wanted it to or not. At first, he'd been able to block it out. But as time went on, it became harder and harder. A lot of times, he understood how Sam felt. Because he knew, from following his parents on other ghost hunts before, that he couldn't make himself known to his parents. They would say goodbye to him and send him away forever. So, if he wanted to stay with them, he had to keep his bad memories to himself.

Dean's attention turned back to Sam when Sam dug the photo back out of his bag and set it on the bed next to him. Dean decided that it was time to do something to help Sam. But what? He decided on a plan, hoping he could pull it off without revealing his location to his parents.

Dean went into the living room, where his Mommy was standing at the kitchen counter, taking some food from a pan onto a plate. It was Sammy's favorite. Dean forgot what it was called, but it was a bunch of different vegetables, some strips of chicken, thrown together into a sauce. Mommy put the pan into the sink, then turned to Daddy.

"I guess we should go talk to Sammy now. I don't want his lunch to get cold."

Dean didn't have much time. He closed his eyes and willed himself to become visible. When he opened them back up, his parents were staring at him in shock.

"Dean?"

Dean smiled. "Hi, Mommy. Hi, Daddy."

"Wha…what the hell is going on?" John asked in shock.

"I think you know." Dean said.

"How? Have you been here the whole time?" Mary asked.

Dean nodded. "Yes. I have. But I won't tell you how. If I do, you'll send me away."

"Dean, we have to…"

"No. You don't." Dean said stubbornly. "I'm not letting you send me away."

Mary approached Dean slowly, still too much in shock to believe what she was seeing. It had to be a dream. John grabbed her shoulder to stop her, still unsure that Dean was actually a ghost and not something else.

"I am a ghost, Daddy." Dean said. "You don't have to be scared. I won't hurt you."

Mary knelt to Dean's eye level, holding out a hand to grab Dean's hand. She stopped just short, afraid to touch him. She was afraid it was a dream, and if she touched Dean, he would fade away.

"It's okay, Mommy."

Mary put a hand to Dean's cheek, still afraid it was too good to be true. Her voice wavered as she asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay."

"Do you remember…" Mary swallowed, not really wanting to know the answer. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

"I remember." Dean said. He remembered something he'd heard her ask once before. "It only hurt for a second, Mommy."

Mary let out a sob but did her best to keep her composure. "You weren't in pain?"

"Not for long. Just for a second." Dean said. "Please don't cry, Mommy. I promise I'm okay."

"Dean, why haven't you told us you were here before?" John asked. He was battling his own raging emotions, putting up a brave face for Mary and Dean's sake.

"Because I knew you'd make me leave if I told you."

"So why tell us right now?"

"'Cause of Sammy." Dean said, and immediately John and Mary's face fell. "He's feeling really bad."

"We know, honey." Mary asked.

"No, you don't. Not everything." Dean insisted.

"What do you mean?"

"He just wants a Mommy and Daddy like I had. I know he was kinda mean to you earlier, but he doesn't know what else to do."

"What else to do?"

"He's lonely. He didn't tell you about this, but he had a girlfriend in Why."

"He did?" Mary asked. "Why wouldn't he tell us that?"

"Because he was scared you'd tell him he couldn't see her. But he thought you were gonna stay, so he was going to tell you about her. But he never got the chance."

"Because we left?"

"Yeah." Dean said. "Sammy needs you guys. I know you want to find the man that killed me, but take care of Sammy first. He needs you more than I do."

"We will, Dean." Mary promised. "I promise we'll take care of your brother."

"Daddy? You too?"

"Yeah, Dean. Me too."

Dean smiled again, and Mary forced herself to smile back at him. She wanted to weep. Dean was missing a tooth. It had fallen out the day before he died, and it would apparently stay that way forever. Losing the tooth was the last time Mary really remembered comforting Dean and being able to be his mother. Mary had saved the tooth after playing tooth fairy that night, and had held on to it from that moment forward.

_That's it. That's how he stayed here._

"Are you gonna make me leave now?" Dean asked fearfully.

Mary turned around to John, who despite his efforts was crying. They'd both wanted desperately to be able to say goodbye to Dean properly, but now that the time was here, it was harder than they'd ever imagined. John joined Mary, kneeling down to talk to Dean.

"Dean, you can't stay here. I'm sorry, buddy. It's just not good for you."

"You don't want me to stay?" Dean asked.

"It's not that. We miss you every single day. But you need to move on."

"I don't want to." Dean whined.

"Dean." Mary said, fighting back the river of tears she felt welling up inside her. "Daddy's right. I know you stayed because we needed you. That was so brave of you, Dean, and I do thank you for that. But it's okay to move on, baby."

"What's gonna happen if I do?"

Mary and John looked at each other, and seemed to agree on their answer. They turned back to Dean, both faking smiles they didn't feel.

"You'll go to heaven, honey." Mary said. "We don't know exactly what it's like, but it'll be nice and peaceful."

"You promise?" Dean asked. "I won't be scared? I won't have any bad dreams?"

"You have bad dreams?"

Dean nodded. "I can't stop thinking about what happened that night."

"You mean, in Sammy's room?"

"Yeah."

Mary wanted badly, very badly, to ask Dean what exactly _had_ happened that night. She'd always wondered why he had gotten out of bed that night. She hadn't heard Sam wake up that night. She knew that Dean sometimes got up with Sam, but he wasn't as sneaky about it as he believed. Dean knew not to pick up his little brother without his parents there. Mary would listen on the baby monitor, and if Sam got particularly fussy, she would either get up or get John to get up with them. On that night, she'd heard nothing. But Dean didn't need to recap that night for his parents. He needed to be relieved of the burden of having to relive that memory over and over.

"Dean. Mommy'll be right back, okay?"

Mary left and walked to the room where she and John had two unpacked boxes. One for their clothes and one for their meager possessions. In the bottom of the box was a small jewelry case, which Mary pulled out and dug around in for a moment. She found it, hiding in the bottom of the case. Dean's baby tooth. Knowing it would soon be gone broke her heart, but not as much as the thought of Dean hanging around them, reliving his death, in a misguided effort to help them. When she came back out, John was talking to Dean.

"How'd you stay here so long without us knowing?"

"I wasn't here the whole time. I kinda just appeared one day. I didn't know where I was exactly, but you and Mommy were fighting some kind of monster. I tried to call out but you couldn't see me."

John shuddered at the thought of Dean watching them fight anything. Had he followed them on hunts since then? But he quickly thought the same as Mary. They had to send Dean to where he belonged. Mary walked over to them and showed them the tooth in her hand.

"Dean? I think this is how you've been able to watch us."

"My tooth?"

"Your tooth. Do you remember how you lost it?"

"It was loose and I fell." Dean said.

"That's right." Mary said. She reached up and pushed Dean's slightly too long hair away from his face. "That's what I think about all the time. Because that's the last time I remember being a mommy to you."

"So what do we do now?"

"We have to…" John started, before Mary grabbed his arm.

"Do you trust me, Dean?" Mary asked. Dean nodded, and Mary took his hand. "You're gonna sit in Mommy's lap. I'll sing to you, just like I used to. When you wake up, you'll be in Heaven. How's that sound?"

Dean grinned again, shattering both parents' hearts. "Sounds good, Mommy."

"Okay. Give Daddy a real good hug, okay?"

Dean walked over to John and wrapped both arms around John's neck. John squeezed Dean as tightly as he could to try and lessen the pain that was constricting his heart.

"Daddy loves you, bud. Don't ever, ever forget that, okay? No matter where you are. Promise me."

"I love you too, Daddy. Promise me you won't forget?"

"I won't forget." John said. He didn't want to let Dean go, but he couldn't delay the inevitable anymore. "Go on. Go sit with Mommy, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." Dean let go of John and ran back over to his mother, who was sitting in the floor waiting for him.

"Come on, sweetie. Come here." 

"You promised you'd sing to me, Mommy." Dean said.

"I will. Just close your eyes and I'll sing to you." Mary pulled Dean into her lap and cuddled him to her, rocking him back and forth. "Everything Daddy said goes for me too. I love you, my baby. You know that, right?"

"I know, Mommy. Love you too." Dean said. "Don't forget to let Sammy know you love him too."

"I won't. Go on to sleep." Mary said.

Dean closed his eyes and Mary swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. John took Dean's tooth from Mary and pulled his lighter out of his pocket. He nodded in encouragement at Mary, who seemed to freeze and not want to send Dean away. _We have to,_ he mouthed to her, and Mary finally began.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird…"

Before finishing the first verse, Dean was gone. Because he wasn't resisting when John lit the tooth with the lighter, it didn't take long for Dean to disappear. He opened his eyes and looked surprised for a second, then was consumed by flames and disappeared. A heavy silence descended into the room, two heartbroken parents hurting deep in their souls after what had just happened.

"Are you okay?" John asked Mary. She seemed to be in shock, her empty arms still in the position they'd been in to hold and rock Dean.

"How the hell am I supposed to answer that?"

"Sorry." John said. "I know. Stupid question."

"He was with us longer dead than alive." Mary said. "Twelve years."

"Did you ever think he might be haunting us?"

"I thought he might be. But I figured it was just wishful thinking, you know? Wanting to see him again." Mary said.

"Me too." John looked towards Sam's room. Sam either hadn't heard them talking to Dean or was simply ignoring them. "What do you want to do?"

"Wait a few minutes then we'll go talk to him."

"You sure?" John asked. "We can hold off on it."

"No. We can't. We made Dean a promise and I intend to keep it." Mary turned to John and said, "We need to talk to him. No fighting. That means even if he snaps at us, we keep our cool."

"I know. I will." John said.

"Come on. Help me set the table for lunch."

Once the table was set, the two of them were ready to talk with Sam. They walked down the short hallway and found Sam lying on his bed, staring at a photo that they couldn't see right away. Mary knocked lightly on the door.

"Sam? Can we talk, honey?"

Sam sniffed and answered, "If you have to, but I think we talked enough."

"Sam, we mean talk. Really talk." John tried. "Can we do that?"

Sam sat up and noticed that both of his parents looked visibly upset. He could tell his mother had been crying, and though he'd never seen it before, he thought his dad might have been crying too.

"Talk about what?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter turned out to be much longer than I anticipated, but it does bring the previous fight to a fragile solution. This does not mean, however, that the story is over. There is more to come. s**

Sam had been in his room for close to an hour. His stomach rumbled, and he smelled the food cooking in the kitchen, but he chalked the smell up to wishful thinking. There was no way, after the way he'd been acting, that his mom had made his favorite meal. No way.

The hole in Sam's heart that was constant and dull was now aching and throbbing. He'd tried to be tough in the argument with his parents, but now that they were gone he was failing. He'd seen the look of hurt on their face when he brought up Dean. It had only been there for a split second before it morphed into anger, but it had been there. Sam truly was sorry for his parents' loss. He couldn't imagine how it felt to lose a kid.

But he wasn't sorry for what he'd said. He meant that. His parents had stopped being his parents when Dean died. As a toddler, he'd spent more time with Bobby than with his parents. Bobby had seen most of his firsts-first word, first steps, first day of school. The arrangement between his parents and Bobby had worked fine for the first few years of Sam's life. He stayed with Bobby while his parents 'worked', and they would come see him whenever they could.

Then, the summer before third grade, things had changed. Sam had overheard his mom and dad talking to Bobby about a 'hunt' they'd been on. He had been coming down the stairs from his room when he heard them talking. It was the middle of the night, so he'd been walking pretty slowly, when his parents started to walk up the stairs. John had an arm around Mary, heading up to their bed, when Sam heard him say that he'd be glad when 'all the monsters' were gone.

That had opened up a rather uncomfortable conversation between eight-year-old Sam, Bobby, and his parents. They'd told him the truth about the supernatural, leading to Sam having nightmares for a while that had never really completely subsided. Things had seemed okay after that, until three days later, when Sam had woken up to find his things packed away and his mother and father ready to leave. He remembered the day well. He was happy to finally be able to be with his parents, and he didn't realize what exactly had happened for a while. Bobby had kept a smile on his face, telling Sam he'd see and talk to him soon, but of course that had been a lie.

They had gotten in a fight, over Sam, and John and Mary had taken Sam away from Bobby.

That had been four years earlier. At first, the thrill of seeing his mom and dad more was enough to recover from not being able to see Bobby. It was enough to be able to get past losing his school friends, his home, and the security that living with Bobby provided. But, over time, the novelty of being with his parents quickly faded. They never stayed in one place longer than a month, more often no more than a week at a time. Things came to a head when John and Mary missed Sam's school play. He'd refused to talk to either of them for two weeks, especially when they moved a week later. All that changed when Mary told him the good news six weeks ago. They were staying in the house for a year.

But, Sam thought bitterly, apparently his trust meant nothing to his parents. Because they'd thrown it away for some unknown threat that would probably mean nothing anyway. His parents never told him anything, but if he had to guess, they'd found some lead on Dean's killer and were chasing it.

Dean. Everything led back to Dean. He thought back to his childhood imaginary friend named Dean. Dean would appear anytime he was missing his parents and he was alone. He would play with Sam and talk to him, listen when he would cry for his mommy and daddy. He'd wondered after he got a little older whether his imaginary friend Dean was actually his brother Dean, or if it was just what imaginary friends were supposed to be, a figment of the imagination. He'd thought about asking his parents what they thought, but had never been able to find a way to slip it into conversation casually enough that it wouldn't cause a big blowout like the fight tonight.

His mind looped back to his mother's threat. Taking him out of school and forcing him to homeschool. What she'd said about it stung. _Because maybe, just maybe, if we take away what you love, you'll understand at least a fraction of what it's like for me and your father day in and day out when it comes to your brother. _Sam had bit back a retort in the living room, and he didn't regret not saying it. It would have only added fuel to the fire. _Maybe I love going to school because it's the only constant thing I have in my life. It's always there for me, even when you're not._

Sam often wondered if his parents loved him. The thought had never crossed his mind before that his parents might doubt if he loved them. Did they know that every time they were away, Sam cried himself to sleep wondering if they'd even be alive the next morning? Did they know that he constantly feared getting the phone call or the visit from the police or the fire department or social services or Bobby that he was now an orphan?

Would they care? 

"Sam? Can we talk, honey?"

Sam sniffed and answered, "If you have to, but I think we talked enough."

"Sam, we mean talk. Really talk." John tried. "Can we do that?"

Sam sat up and noticed that both of his parents looked visibly upset. He could tell his mother had been crying, and though he'd never seen it before, he thought his dad might have been crying too.

"Talk about what?"

Mary walked in and took a seat on the edge of Sam's bed, and John stayed in the doorway. As always, his mom looked apologetic and his father's face was unreadable. Mary reached out a hand for Sam's, and Sam thought about pulling it back from her out of spite. But he didn't. He let her hold his hand and waited patiently for someone to start the conversation. 

"Sam, we're sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Sam asked. He tried his best to keep the hurt and the anger out of his voice. He didn't want to start another fight, but he had to know what exactly they were apologizing for.

Mary swallowed. "You were right. With what you said. Your dad and I haven't been good parents to you since…"

Mary spotted the photo Sam was holding and her eyes swam with tears again. She gently took the photo from Sam and looked at it, placing a hand on her mouth and crying softly. Sam was alarmed. It had been a long time since he remembered his mom crying over Dean like this. It happened mostly on Dean's birthday and the anniversary of his death, but the rest of the year, Dean was pretty much a taboo subject in whatever room or apartment or rental house the Winchesters just happened to call home.

"Mom?" Sam asked. "Mom, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Mary shook her head and handed the photo to John, who refused to look at it. He turned it on its back so all that could be seen was the white backing of the picture.

"Thank you for saying that, honey, but you're still right. Dad and I haven't been very fair to you at all. You deserve to be a kid. You deserve to be happy." 

Sam was shocked. He didn't know what to say. He looked to his father, who was simply nodding his head in agreement with his mother. Sam said nothing, still not forming a good response.

"I want you to always tell me how you feel, even if you're mad at me. Especially if I deserve it. I will never forgive myself for letting you get your heart set on staying in Why and then taking it away from you. I will always be sorry for that. Okay?"

"Okay, Mom. I forgive you."

Sam's words shocked even him. He could see the surprise register on Mary's face and a smile start to form there. She looked to John who seemed equally surprised. Since entering puberty, Sam did not forgive easily. He held grudges, and resentments tended to get swept under the rug rather than forgiven. Eventually, given enough time, Sam's anger or hurt would fade and they'd simply move on.

"You too, Dad."

"Thank you, bud." John said with a smile.

"Sam, that's not all. I want you to answer a question for me, and I want you to be honest about it. Do you feel like Dad and I care about you?"

"Mom, please, can we not have this talk?"

"No, Sam. I feel like we have to have this talk. I think all three of us are hurting, and we need to get this out."

"I tried to get it out."

"I know. I know, honey. I'm sorry for that. So let's start over, okay? Please?"

Sam nodded. "Okay."

"Please answer my question. Do you feel like Dad and I care about you?"

Sam shook his head. "No. You'll just get mad at me again."

"I swear we won't."

Sam took a deep breath and thought carefully about his answer. He spoke slowly, trying to keep his voice even and as calm as possible. "You two give and give and give everything you have to everyone else. You'd give the shirt off your back to a complete stranger. But you can't even give me one uninterrupted hour."

John started to overrule Sam. "Sam, I've tried…"

"I know you've made an effort, Dad. I know you have. And I do appreciate it. But do you know why I stopped taking you up on those offers? Because the last time I did, you took me to Plucky's."

"Okay. And…?"

"Dad, I _hate_ Plucky's. I'm scared of clowns." Sam said.

Sam's declaration admission took both parents by surprise. "You're scared of clowns?" Mary asked.

"Since when?" John replied.

"Since I was seven and Bobby took me trick or treating. This older kid in a clown costume got in my face and scared me."

"Why didn't you just tell me that when we got to Plucky's, Sam?" John asked. "I would've gone somewhere else. I thought you'd like it." 

"Because I shouldn't have to tell you that I'm scared of clowns. It showed me the truth. You two don't know me. You don't know me at all. And you don't want to try." Sam was slowly gaining back his courage. "And every time we have been together since? You spend the whole time with your pager in your hand waiting on someone to call. Same with you, Mom. The only time you look at me and talk to me is when you're telling me that we're moving again, or that you're sorry because you and Dad aren't going to be here for something."

Mary was stunned. She knew that Sam was hurt, but had no idea it went back this far. Sam was crying again, but he wiped his face and kept talking.

"Do you know what my first memory is?" Sam asked. "My first real, clear memory?"

"No." Mary whispered. "What is it?"

"I was six. Bobby took me to the park and there was this mom pushing her little boy on the swing set. Every time he came back to her, she'd grab the swing and tickle him. Kiss him on the cheek, make him laugh. Then she'd push him again. He'd come back to her, and she'd grab him and tickle him again. I watched them for a long time. And all I could think was, why can't my mom look at me like that? Just for a minute? Like I was the most important thing in the world to her. Like she loved me."

Mary wiped away a tear coming down her face. She'd wanted Sam to talk, and he was obliging.

"And Dad? My first real memory of you? It was a couple weeks after that. You and Mom had left on another hunt. I had a bully at school. He would grab my lunch from me every day and if I didn't give it to him, he'd beat me up. I was gonna tell Bobby about it, but Bobby told me you were on the way home. So I waited. And I waited. And I waited another _two days_. When you finally came home, you had a broken arm and two broken fingers. Bobby had to leave with Mom to go and finish the job you two had been on."

John's memory finally recalled what Sam was talking about, and he wanted to retreat into himself and forget the whole thing. "Sam…."

"What happened, Sam?"

"When I came home from school that first day, Mom and Bobby were gone, so it was just me and you, Dad. I tried to tell you about the bully at school, but you were drunk and hopped up on pain killers. You got mad at me and sent me to my room. I tried again before I went to bed, same thing. The next day I decided I'd had enough, so when he came up to me to take my lunch, I told him no. He jumped on me and we got in a fight. We both got sent home, and Dad had to come pick me up."

"Then what?" Mary asked.

"He wouldn't listen to me about the fight. He yelled at me for it for hours, then told me I had to stay in my room 'till you and Bobby got home. Three days later."

"John?"

"It was years ago, Mary."

"Well, apparently, he's never forgotten it." Mary said. "What the hell were you thinking making a six-year-old stay in his room for three days?"

"See, this is exactly the problem!" Sam exclaimed, breaking up the budding fight between his parents.

"What are you talking about, Sam?" John asked.

"We're supposed to be talking about how we can fix what's wrong between us now, and you two are sniping back and forth about something that happened years ago."

John and Mary eyed each other with a shamed expression. They both took a deep breath and looked back to Sam.

"You're right, Sam. We're sorry." Mary said. "We're here with you now. Go on."

Sam didn't miss a beat. "The reason I got so excited when you told me we were staying in Why? Because I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd have some friends again. I'd have someone who could distract me when you two were gone. So that maybe the only time of day I'd have to sit here and worry and cry and wonder whether you and Dad were alive would be when I was trying to go to sleep at night."

"You cry for us when we aren't here?" Mary asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes. Why does that surprise you?"

"Because you seem so angry when we get home." John said.

"I'm not angry. I'm scared and I'm worried. You just leave for days at a time and you never call, except maybe once or twice to make sure I'm not leaving the house or doing anything you think I shouldn't. It's not fair. At least you two have each other."

Mary felt the breath leave her and she wondered how she'd missed such glaring, obvious problems with Sam. _You're never here when he needs you, that's how you missed it. _She looked to John, who seemed to be processing the new information the same way she was. He wasn't.

"That's the same reason I like school so much. Because it passes the time till you and Dad get back and I don't have to worry so much or so constantly."

"Which was why you didn't want to do homeschooling."

Sam nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Mary sighed, considering. "That makes sense."

"Look. I get it, okay? Our lives are screwed up. I know we can't ever have one hundred percent normal. But what you guys don't seem to get is this. I'd give up every friend I might have, I'd do homeschooling, I'd do whatever you wanted. I just want…" Sam swallowed hard, his last thought buried beneath his desire to keep the peace.

"Just want what, Sam?"

Sam decided to risk it. "You've both given up your life for Dean. I just want to matter to you as much as he does."

"Is there anything else we need to know?" Mary asked kindly.

Sam shook his head. "No." he answered quietly.

"Okay. My turn." Mary said. "John, hand me that picture, please."

John handed her the photo, not turning it over for fear of it striking a chord in his own heart. After what had just happened in the living room, he didn't think he had the capacity to go through that again. Mary turned the photo over and gave it back to Sam.

"Did you know, when you were really little, that your dad and I never got up in the middle of the night with you?"

"You didn't? Why not?"

"Because Dean would always beat us there." Mary said. "Every time we heard you start to cry, we'd get up and we'd find Dean there already."

"Really?"

"Yep. He loved you so much. In fact, ask your dad what Dean said to him the night you were born."

"What'd he say?"

John laughed for the first time in days. "He kept asking me if we'd babyproofed the house for you. He hadn't even met you yet, but he wanted to make sure we'd plugged up the outlets, locked up the cabinets, made sure you couldn't get ahold of anything that would hurt you. Even when I told him that you wouldn't be old enough to crawl for months, he kept telling me we couldn't bring you home 'til the house was safe."

"He cared about me that much?"

"He did. I think he wanted to raise you just as much as we did." Mary said. "And I know it doesn't feel like it, honey, but your dad and I do love you as much as we love Dean."

"I don't feel it." Sam said honestly. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm not saying that to make you guys feel bad, but it's the truth. I don't feel loved. Not by you guys."

"Give us a chance to change that. Please."

"Do you want to?" Sam asked. "Did you mean what you said? That you don't like coming home to me anymore?"

Mary sighed and turned to John. "John?"

"Yes. I did mean it." John admitted. "But I don't dread it because we're coming home to you. That's the _good _part. That's the part we look forward to. But Sam, just like you said you don't feel like your mom and I care about you…"

John sighed in frustration. He was so bad at explaining how he felt in a calm way. It was part of the reason he and Mary were such a good match. When he was starting to lose his temper with Sam, and at risk of hurting his feelings and damaging their relationship, Mary would jump in and rescue him. But this time she stayed silent. Hopefully, it meant he was on the right track.

"Just like you said you don't feel like your mom and I care about you, when we've just gotten home and you're making us feel like crap the _second _that we do get back to you, it makes us feel like you don't care about us. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, Dad. It does." Sam said. "I'm sorry."

"Look, Sam. Can I ask a favor?" Mary asked.

"What is it?"

"If Dad and I get home, and you're upset with something…I meant what I said. I want you to tell us. I do. But can you give us a little while before we do talk about it? Let me and Dad get settled a bit?"

"How long is a little while?"

"Two hours." Mary said. "Enough time for us to get cleaned up. I swear to you, we'll talk if you're upset at us. You can tell us anything you want. The only rule, which all of us need to follow," Mary took a pointed look in John's direction, "is that we will listen to what each other has to say, no matter how hard it is, and we will all be respectful. Are we agreed?"

"Agreed." Sam and John said in unison.

"Okay. Good. Now, is there anything else either of you wanted to talk about?" John and Sam both shook their heads 'no'. "Then I say we eat lunch."

"Mom? Did you make what I think you made?"

"If you think I made chicken stir fry, then I made what you think I made." Mary said with a smile.

"You made my favorite lunch? Even after the fight we had?"

"I did." Mary said. "You hungry?"

"Thanks, Mom." Sam said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And I think I say with some confidence, that after Dad driving so far last night and me being so tired, that we have no problem turning off our pager and the phone today."

"That sounds awesome." John said sincerely.

"Really?" Sam asked. "What are we gonna do?"

"What do you wanna do?"

Sam thought about it carefully. "Can we just stay here? Watch movies or something?"

"That sounds like a plan."

For four hours, all seemed better. The three of them camped out in the living room, eating all the lunch Mary had made, and nearly all of the half gallon of ice cream John had bought for them at the grocery store earlier. Sam was nearly in a food coma, sitting between John and Mary on the couch, when a knock at the door startled them. It was Jesse, the apartment building manager and John and Mary's former hunting partner.

"Hey, John. Sorry, but there's a call for you in the office. They say it's important."

"Who is it?"

"I'm not sure. Jim something?"

"Probably Jim Murphy. I'm coming."

John followed Jessie out, leaving behind Sam and Mary, both of whom had a pit in their stomachs. Anything bad enough to make Jim call the office of their new apartment building couldn't have been good. When John came back less than two minutes later, he had a deeply regretful look on his face.

"It's Caleb."

"What about him?" Mary asked.

"He's dealing with what he thought was a single werewolf. Turns out it's a pack and there's no one else to help."

Mary cursed inwardly. Not at Caleb, but at the circumstances. She had just convinced Sam to trust her again, and now he had a reason not to. But they couldn't leave Caleb out there alone. Sam hated it just as much as Mary did, but when he saw the conflicting look on Mary's face, he decided to cut her a break.

"Mom? It's okay. Go check on Caleb."

A surprised Mary looked over at Sam. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He needs you more than me." Sam said. He was trying to be gracious; he didn't mean that, even for a second. "It's okay. Go on."

A relieved John said, "I'll put our duffles in the car. We leave in five minutes, we can be there in two hours."

Mary nodded. "Okay. I'll be right there." When John was gone, she turned back to Sam. "Thank you. Thank you for being so understanding about this."

"Mom? I don't mean to sound selfish with this, but can I ask for something? Something in return for keeping the promise I made earlier? About giving you and Dad some time if I'm upset with you?"

"What is it?"

"Will you think about changing your mind? About school?" Sam asked. "Please. I just don't want to be here by myself all the time."

The tears Sam was fighting back when he talked about being alone nearly broke Mary. She came close to telling John to go for Caleb on his own and to leave her there with Sam. But werewolves needed every available Bobby. So Mary placed a hand on Sam's cheek and smiled.

"Yes. I will think about school. We'll talk about it together when I come back. The decision's still mine and your father's, but even if we do decide on homeschooling, you are not restricted to your room or this apartment. You will be able to have friends. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Mom."

"Sam?" John spoke from the door with his and Mary's duffel bags. "This means a lot. You being so understanding about this. It really does. But Mary, we have to go."

"I know." Mary planted a quick kiss on Sam's cheek. "We will be back. As soon as we possibly can. Okay? Lock the door behind us…"

"Salt all the windows and doors after that." Sam recited.

"Good boy. I love you, Sammy."

"Love you too, Mom. Bye, Dad."

As the door closed behind his parents, Sam tried to ignore the feeling that things were about to change, again. This time for the bad. He paused the movie and got up to salt the door, walking right past Dean but not seeing him, trying to ignore the painful thumping of his heart.

"Sorry, Mommy and Daddy." The perpetual toddler Dean said, watching Sam take his seat again on the couch. "I can't leave until I know Sammy's safe."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Though this chapter does have a happy ending, the story is far from over! Just be patient, please. I have exams and projects coming up, and work is being particularly needy this week, so I don't know when I'll be able to update exactly. I'm anticipating no more than a week for another update, but we'll have to see. **

**I know that John hasn't been as involved in the story as Mary. I tried to put him in a little more, but I didn't like the way the story flowed. I guess because I kind of see Mary in this story taking Dean's place-as mediator between him and John. He will be in it more later on, as Sam grows up and becomes a teenager. Either way, I hope everyone's enjoying it so far. It's become more of a monster (in a good way) than I intended, and I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would. **

**Happy Easter everyone!**

It had been a long two and a half days, but Mary didn't regret it. Helping Caleb out of his jam had only taken a couple of hours and was only six hours away. She and John could have, if they'd pushed, been back very late on the same day they'd left Sam, and picked up right where they all left off. But an idea, one that had been forming form the moment she'd realized she needed to tell Sam they were moving but had solidified when they'd gotten in the car to leave the apartment that day, made Mary practically force John into getting a room and 'talking'.

Thinking of what Sam had said, Mary called Sam every few hours to assure him they were fine. She'd told him they were coming home with a surprise for him, and begged him to be patient. Sam promised he would be, though Mary could tell he was losing the fight. _Just hang on, baby. I'm doing this for you. Please just hang on._

John was against the idea she presented to him from the moment it left her mouth. Their 'talk' turned into one of the biggest fights they'd ever had. But, gradually, she talked him into it. Or wore him down so much that he stopped fighting her on it. She couldn't decide, but either way, her plan was in motion.

As Sam waited on his parents to get home, he wondered what had been so important that they'd stayed gone. Had the talk they'd had mean nothing? Were they caught up in yet another hunt, leaving him there to stare at the wall and worry about them? He decided to keep up his end of the bargain, and maybe if he did, they would start keeping up their end. Mary was already trying, having called him six times in the three days they'd been gone.

It was hard for Sam to keep his cool. He knew what his mom and dad did was important, but he also knew that they didn't _have_ to take every single job they were offered. He knew that because there had been several times in the past four years where he'd answer the phone for his parents and tell whoever was on the other end that one or both of them was sick. If whoever it was insisted on talking to his parents, Sam would take them the phone. But if they just said okay and hung up, Sam would 'forget' to tell his parents that anyone called. By then, whatever the hunt was would be over and he would have gotten another day or two with his mom and dad. He sometimes felt guilty for lying to them, but the feeling of a little more time with them was worth it.

Finally, after nearly three full days, Sam was making himself lunch when he heard it. He was surprised when the sound of the Impala actually made him smile instead of making his blood boil. He was still upset that his parents hadn't come home sooner, but he was happy that they were home instead of angry that they hadn't been. Though Mary hadn't officially given Sam permission to get off the grounding she'd put him on, he had spent a lot of the time they'd been gone cleaning and fixing up the apartment with anything he could find. Their photos were on the wall, along with all the drawings that Mary and John had saved from Sam's childhood. Sam hoped they wouldn't react badly to it, but he had set aside one wall in the main room to put up the pictures that Dean had drawn for them and the photos they had of him.

Mary had asked Sam to wait in the apartment, because they were coming home with a big surprise for him. Sam peeked out the window to try and get a glimpse of it, but he couldn't see anything. Mary and John were simply sitting in the car, talking. John didn't look happy, but, Sam reasoned, he rarely ever did these days. When he saw Mary look up into their apartment, he immediately let go of the blinds and went to stand behind the door. Excited, Sam stood on his heels and bounced up and down. He felt like a toddler waiting to see what Mommy and Daddy were bringing him after a long trip. Finally, the door opened, and Mary stepped inside.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi." Mary said, surprised that Sam was so happy to see her. "Sorry we're late."

"It's okay. Where's Dad?"

"He's out in the car with your surprise."

"Cool." Sam said. "I've got one for you too."

"What is…?" Mary asked.

She stopped talking when she spotted the surprise on the wall. Pictures that Sam had made along one wall, and pictures that Dean had drawn on a wall of his own. When Mary didn't say anything, Sam became worried.

"Mom? I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't, honey." Mary said. She grabbed Sam into another hug. "Thank you. I love it."

"I know we don't usually decorate, but I wanted to try this time…"

"You did good." Mary said again.

"Mom? Can I have my surprise now?"

Mary laughed. "Sure. Hang on, I'll go bring your Dad in." Mary turned back to Dean's wall and admired it for a moment, then turned back to Sam. "Listen. I do love the wall. But don't get upset if your Dad doesn't say anything about it or maybe seems a little upset. He's not, it's just…"

"I know, Mom. I won't." Sam said.

Sam had been thinking a lot about his dad over the last three days. He hated John's reactive personality sometimes, but thinking about when that personality came out the most made him realize something. John sometimes didn't know _how_ to react to things, so he defaulted to anger when he was scared, frustrated, or worried. Even when he did seem genuinely angry, he was usually just worried that something bad was going to happen.

Mary smiled back at Sam. Sam saw the pride in her eyes, but also detected some sadness there. "You're really growing up. You know that?"

Mary stepped back outside, and two minutes later, came in with John. She waited a few moments while John took in Sam's surprise, then waved at someone outside to come in. Sam's jaw was hanging freely in his own surprise.

"Uncle Bobby?"

Bobby grinned. It had been years since he'd seen Sam, and he wondered if Sam would even remember him. "Hey, kid. How you doin'?"

Sam responded by running to Bobby and grabbing him around the waist, unknowingly making both his parents jealous.

"It's good to see you, boy."

"Uncle Bobby, what are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"Um…"

"We're gonna talk about that, Sam. All of us. Let me and Dad get cleaned up first, though."

"Okay." Sam said suspiciously. Something was going on, and he could see that clearly. But was it good or bad?

"You and uncle Bobby order a pizza for dinner. Whatever you want. Once we've eaten dinner, the three of us have something to talk to you about."

Sam tried not to worry about what his parents wanted to talk about, choosing instead to catch up Bobby on his life since he'd moved out. John and Mary didn't seem angry, at least not at him. John kept actively avoiding looking at Mary. Whatever was going on, it was Mary's idea and John didn't agree. Finally, once dinner was over, Sam couldn't take the waiting any more.

"Guys, what's going on? Why are you being so weird?"

Mary laughed. "Why do you say that?"

"Something's going on. What is it?" Sam asked again. "Please just tell me."

Mary sighed. She'd planned this, and had been very sure, up until this moment, that they were doing the right thing. She took her seat back at the table, joined by Bobby and John. "Sam, Dad and I had an idea. It's part of the reason we were so late; we were waiting to bring Bobby back with us."

"Okay. Why? I thought you guys weren't talking."

"We weren't. And that was a mistake." Mary said. "We never should have taken you from the only home you ever really had."

"So what does this mean?"

"It means that you're moving back in with Bobby."

"What?" Sam had never felt so many conflicting emotions at once. "Why?"

"Do you not want to go?" John asked, sounding hopeful.

Sam caught the hopeful note in John's question, but couldn't help being honest. "I didn't say that. But why now? It's been four years." A frightening thought came to him. "Is this because of the fight?"

"Partially. Yes." Mary said.

"I thought we were okay." Sam said, his stomach tying in knots from dread. "You said…"

"Sam, stop, honey. Calm down. This is not about punishing you. You're not going to Bobby's because we're mad at you."

"Then why?"

"Sweetheart, listen to me. I know you want me and Dad to stop hunting. I know that's your dream. But we can't. If we did stop now, we might be safe for a little while. But the things we hunt would find us. They'd find you. And after what happened to your brother, I can't let that happen. _We_ can't let that happen. You understand that, right?"

"I know that, Mom. But what's that got to do with Bobby?"

"Well, Dad and I can't give you a home right now. Not with us. But Bobby can. And we know you'd be safe with him."

"You mean, like when I was little?" Sam asked. "When I'd stay with him while you and Dad hunted?"

"Right. Except it'd be full time now." Mary said. "You'd be able to go to school full-time. You might even have some of the same classmates you had when you left."

"I hardly see you and Dad now." Sam said. "With you guys moving around so much, I'll never see you."

"That's not true." Mary argued. "We will be there as often as we possibly can. Right?" Mary turned and glared at John, who sat there glaring right back at her.

"Right." John said.

"Yeah, that's convincing." Sam replied bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down to the floor.

"Sam…" As much as John disagreed with Mary's plan, he wasn't willing to go back to the way things had been before the argument a few days earlier.

"Don't, John." Mary warned. She placed a hand on Sam's arm. "Please look at me."

Sam continued to stare at the ugly tiled floor, not wanting his mother to see him fighting back tears.

"Sammy, please. I need you to look at me." Mary waited patiently, and eventually Sam relented. When he did, Mary saw the tears swimming in his eyes, and Sam stubbornly holding them back. "I never told you this before, but my parents were hunters."

"They were?"

"They were. So, I get, at least partially, how you're feeling. I never wanted this for you. I know it's lonely when we're gone. I just didn't realize how lonely. I thought we were doing a good job making up for the times when we were gone by taking you with us. But I was wrong. We're doing this because I don't want you to spend any more nights sad or upset or even angry with no one else around to talk to. I want to give you that home you want so badly, even if it can't be me and your father that gives it to you. Do you understand?"

"I guess." Sam said. 

"Then why are you still crying?" Mary asked.

"Because I just want my mom and dad. Why's it so hard?" Sam said, the tears starting to fall.

"Come here."

It was an awkward fit, as Sam was tall and thin, but Mary made it work. She pulled him into her lap and let him cry, trying to stop herself from crying too. She was certain she'd be doing plenty of crying after Sam left for Bobby's. 

"I don't know why it's so hard. I wish I could take all the bad stuff out there and make it go away so that it couldn't hurt you in any way at all. But I promise you, things will be different this time. Dad and I will call you all the time. Every night if we can, but I can't promise that. At least one long conversation every week. We will send you stuff in the mail, and we will make sure that wherever we are, you can get in touch with us. And every time we get a chance, we will be at Bobby's. We will do our best to make long trips, but even if all we can do is pop in and spend a couple hours with you, we'll do that. It will not be like before. Okay?"

"Okay." Sam said, looking over to John, whose expression was starting to melt into one of sadness and regret rather than anger. "Dad? I know you don't really like this. If you don't want me to go, I won't."

John wanted badly to tell Sam that he didn't want it. He wanted Sam to stay with them, no matter what it entailed. He'd hated Sam being with Bobby so much before. It made him feel like Bobby was the parent and he and Mary were just wayward older siblings who didn't get much of a say in Sam's life. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Bobby _was_ Sam's parent. He'd been the only source of stability in Sam's life, and only once he'd been taken from Bobby had the relationship between Sam and his parents started to deteriorate. Mary was glaring at him even more intensely than she had before, and he made up his mind. 

"I'll miss you, bud. But I want you to be happy just like Mom said. So, if you want to go, go."

Sam smiled. "You'll come too? Not just Mom."

"Every chance I get."

Sam leapt out of Mary's lap and ran to John, wrapping an arm around his neck. He left John and went to Bobby, who he'd missed every day since leaving Bobby's house.

"Thank you, uncle Bobby." Sam said gratefully. "You're the best."

"You don't got to thank me for this. It's my pleasure, bud." Bobby said. "I missed you."

"Missed you more." Sam said. "Do we have to leave today?"

"Nope. Bobby's staying here with us for a few days, then all three of us are going with you back to his house."

"You mean, a roadtrip? All of us?"

"All of us."

Sam felt happier than he had since he was eight. "That sounds great, Mom."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I wasn't originally intending to split this chapter and the next one, but having finished the majority of my schoolwork today, I wanted to make an update to it. I was afraid if I didn't update in some way, I'd fall out of the habit of doing so. I still have a couple of small things to do for school, so it may be a few more days before another update, but I promise it will be updated. Thanks for the patience!**

Mary cursed herself for crying again. She had thought the fight between her and John about Sam moving to Bobby's was the worst they'd ever had. But after seeing how happy Sam was in a safe and stable home, John had backed off and they'd never fought about it again.

But the fight two days earlier had made the one three years ago seem like nothing.

They'd been on what seemed like a normal hunt. Some poltergeist activity in an abandoned house. The new owner knew John and Mary from a previous hunt, and wanted their help getting the house free of activity before moving in. The hunt had seemed completely normal, and John and Mary had been planning to visit Sammy after it was over.

Then things went to hell.

The new owner turned out not to be the new owner at all. As soon as the two of them arrived at the house, something had seemed off. When they decided to go inside the house anyway, John was immediately thrown to one wall and Mary to the other. A deep, guttural laugh that made Mary's hair stand on end came from their friend.

"Well, well, well. Winchesters. I hear you've been looking for me."

A pit formed in Mary's stomach, and not just from dealing with the demon. Her long buried secret was bound to come out, and sure enough, it did. The demon had brought cronies with him, who had just enough strength to keep her pinned against the wall. He taunted the two of them at first, trying to convince them to not pursue him anymore. He'd forced Mary to watch as he beat up John, then grinned when he realized that he had a new way to injure them.

"Mary, I am surprised. You mean you haven't told John our secret?"

"Secret?" John asked from the wall, his eye beginning to swell shut and his mouth and nose bleeding. "What secret?"

When it was revealed, Mary could see the conflicting emotions cross John's face. The reverence, the respect, the absolute trust he once held for her had taken a huge blow. The demon had left them alone at that point, certain that he'd cracked the foundation of their relationship and hurt them enough that they would no longer be a threat. The demon had left before either Mary or John had a chance to exorcise him, and when Mary ran to John to check on him, the almost twelve hour long fight began.

"Don't touch me."

"John…"

"You _knew _him?" John said with gritted teeth, then spat out blood onto the ground. "You knew the bastard that killed our son and you told me _nothing?!_"

"John, please. Please just let me take care of you and I promise I'll explain everything."

"I can take care of myself, and you damn well better tell me what the hell's going on."

Mary had given him the whole, unabridged story, and watched as John's face stayed hard and unreadable the entire time. Some of it, like her growing up as a hunter and being taught the trade from the time she was old enough to walk, he knew. But the part he didn't know, about getting killed while they were on a date and Mary making a demon deal to save his life, deepened the scowl that now seemed a permanent part of John's face. When she finished her story, John said nothing, simply grabbed his duffel bag and started for the door. 

"John? Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean? Please, let's stay and talk about this." Mary begged. "Baby, please…"

"There's nothing to talk about."

The sound of the gas nozzle kicking off shook Mary out of her thoughts. Mary wiped her eyes and put it back where it belonged, paid for the gas, and continued on to Bobby's. Less than an hour later, she pulled into Bobby's yard and found a surprised Sam sitting on the porch.

"Mom?"

Mary parked the car, opened the door, and ran to Sam. She pulled him into a crushing hug, and Bobby came out of the house. He could tell something had happened, something relatively devastating for Mary to just show up out of nowhere. When Bobby realized John hadn't come with her, Bobby's stomach twisted in dread.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" Sam asked, still caught in Mary's tight embrace. "Where's Dad?"

Mary pulled away from Sam just enough to place both hands on the side of his face and stare at him. The thought came that nearly made her sick. _You look so much like your father._

"Mom?" Sam finally realized something was wrong. "Where's Dad? Is he okay?"

Mary sniffed and took a breath before answering. "As far as I know, your father's fine."

"As far as you know? What does that mean? Why isn't he with you?"

"Sam, come inside with me. I have something I need to tell you and Bobby."

"Mom, where's Dad?" Sam repeated. "If he's okay, why isn't he with you?"

"Answer him, Mary." Bobby said. "Bad news is bad news whether you're standing or sitting. Just tell him."

Mary nodded, then leaned against the car and took both of Sam's hand in hers. "Sam, your dad and I aren't together anymore."

"What?" Sam asked. "What does that mean?"

"It means we decided to break up." Mary said. "We're not a couple anymore."


	8. Chapter 8

A shocked Sam stood in the yard, unable to fully comprehend Mary's words. "What do you mean you and Dad broke up?"

"It's a long story, buddy." Mary said. "Come on, let's go inside and we'll talk about it."

Sam wanted to protest some more, demand answers form Mary, but Mary gently prodded him into the living room. Bobby followed close behind, intrigued and angry all at the same time. _What in the hell_, Bobby thought, _could have possessed these two to make such a damn fool decision?_ Sam took his seat beside Mary, impatiently waiting for some form of explanation.

"Mom, what's going on?"

Mary sighed, finally realizing how much she _couldn't _tell Sam. She couldn't give him the details of why she and John had broken up. Sam knew the truth about the supernatural, and the truth, as far as she knew it, about the night that Dean died. But Mary was terrified that, if she told Sam the entire truth, she'd lose him too.

"Mom, what happened?" Sam asked again.

"The details aren't important." Mary said, and was surprised when Sam didn't get angry at the lack of information. "But, basically, I liked to your dad about something important, and he doesn't feel like he can trust me anymore."

"So, what does that mean?" Sam asked. "Are you guys still hunting?"

"Yes, we're still hunting. And we're both still coming to see you. But it'll probably be separately." Mary said. When Sam didn't reply, Mary asked, "Are you okay? Do you have any questions?"

"Is Dad coming?"

"I don't know, honey." Mary said. "He promised he'd come see you after I left, but I don't know exactly when."

"But…" Sam still couldn't process what Mary was telling him. His parents were a team. Anything that could break them apart was something he didn't want to think about.

"Sam, listen. I know it's hard to think about. But this doesn't change the fact that Dad and I both love you. We're still your mom and dad. No matter what. Okay?"

"Okay." Sam said quietly.

"You have any questions for me?"

"No." Sam said. He turned to Bobby and said, "I'm going for a walk."

Bobby nodded. "Alright."

"Could I maybe go to Jack's?"

"Just call me if you do." Bobby said. "If you want to spend the night, that's okay, too. Just let me know."

"Thanks."

"Sam, wait…"

"I'll be back, Mom. I'll be back. I just…I just need some time. Okay?"

Mary didn't want him to go, but she looked at Bobby, who nodded. _Trust me,_ he said silently. _Just give him some time._ Sam left, and Mary was left in an awkward silence with Bobby.

"You want to tell me what the hell happened?" Bobby asked.

"Not particularly."

"So, you just lied to John. About what?" Bobby pushed. "What the hell could you have lied about that was so bad he dumped you?"

"It was a mutual decision…"

"The hell it was." Bobby said sharply. "I can see it in your face. You didn't want this."

"Of course I didn't want this!" Mary snapped, then ran both hands through her hair and collected herself. "I'm sorry." 

"It's okay. Now answer my question. What the hell was bad enough that John left you?"

Mary sighed. "You don't want to know, Bobby."

"Fairly sure I do." 

"Fine." Mary said. "I knew the demon that killed Dean."

Bobby didn't know what exactly he'd expected, but that definitely hadn't been it. "You what?"

"I knew the demon that killed Dean." Mary repeated. "The same demon that killed Dean also killed my parents. John and I were running away that night to elope. The demon killed my parents, then caught up with me and John. He killed John too. I begged him to bring John back, and he agreed, as long as I wouldn't disturb him when he came to my house ten years later."

"The night he killed Dean."

"Yeah. The night he killed Dean."

"You think that's what he wanted? Your first born?" Bobby asked. "Demons usually go for your soul, don't they?"

"I have no idea. I really don't." Mary said. "I don't think he was after Dean, because he was in Sam's room."

"You think he was after Sam? What in the hell for?"

"I wish I knew. That's the other reason I want to find him and find out. See what he wants with my kids."

"What in the Sam hill were you thinking?" Bobby asked, pacing around the room. If Mary had been John, he was certain he would have hit her by now. "Making a deal with a demon?"

"I think I was a kid, Bobby. The man I loved, who was my ticket out of the life I hated, was dead. My parents were dead. And I felt like it was all my fault. I wanted him back. So, when the demon suggested the deal, I took it. Am I proud of it? No. But would I do it again? Yes. In a heartbeat. Because if I didn't, John would be dead and we wouldn't have had Sam _or _Dean."

A glass that had been on Bobby's counter in the kitchen a few feet away suddenly shattered. When Mary and Bobby got up to investigate, they found the floor covered in broken glass, and what looked like small footprints in the pattern caught Bobby's attention. When he knelt down, he muttered to himself.

"Balls."

"Bobby, what is it?" Mary asked.

Bobby pointed to the pile of glass on the floor. "I think they're footprints."

Dean had gotten better and better at hiding, but hearing his mommy say that she'd do everything all over again had made him mad. Real mad. It didn't bother him that Mary said she'd made a deal with what she called the 'demon' that killed him. Everybody made mistakes. He wasn't mad at her for that.

But, if she had the chance, she wouldn't fix it.

Did she not care that doing it all again would mean that Dean would die? Did she really care about him that little? He hadn't meant to break the glass, but when he did, he'd simply ran through the mess and up to Sammy's room to cry on the bed. He wanted to be with his brother, but Sammy had left the house without the object Dean was still attached to, so the only thing he could do was wait for Sammy to get home.

He hated being separated from his parents so much. But he couldn't reveal himself to them when they visited Sammy, or they'd really send him away this time. He understood they were just trying to make sure he could rest, that he could have a good time in Heaven waiting for them to come join him one day. But he wouldn't live there alone. He wouldn't do it. No one could tell him what would happen to him once he got to Heaven, so he wouldn't go. No matter what anyone said about it.

But, he thought, maybe now he should. If Mommy had the choice, she'd make the deal with the bad man who'd killed him all over again to save Daddy. So, maybe Daddy was more important to Mommy than he was. It didn't matter that if she could go back in time and _not_ do it, she'd spare Dean that last moment of pain that haunted his little brain, and years of heartache and loneliness. Dean wondered for a moment if his being upset about this was silly. No one could go back in time. But, he decided, it would be cool to do it, to be able to fix mistakes, but Mommy didn't care. She only cared about having Daddy.

Not about having him.

In his eternally four-year-old mind, it made perfect sense. So, as Mary and Bobby discussed the broken glass downstairs, Dean sat on Sam's bed and cried.

Walking down the road to his friend Jack's house, Sam's mind was spinning. He felt he'd lost something, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Then he realized what the intangible 'it' was. His parents, despite their unusual life, belonged together. Their lives weren't all that stable, but their marriage was solid. Their love for each other was deep and unending. And it troubled Sam to his core that there was anything that could break it apart. He felt empty, hollow inside, like there'd been a death in the family.

"Sam! Wait up!"

Sam was shaken out of his thoughts by the arrival of his friend Jack. "Hey. I was just headed to see you."

"I know. Your uncle called me. Said you were headed to my house and you were pretty upset."

"He did?"

"Yeah. So, you want to tell me what happened? Did you guys get in a fight or something?"

"No. Nothing like that. My mom came to visit today. She told me she and my Dad were getting a divorce."

Suddenly Jack stopped. So suddenly, in fact, that Sam walked nearly another five feet before he realized that Jack had stopped. When Sam turned, he froze to the spot. Jack…didn't look anything like Jack. Physically, he looked the same. But his eyes were different. Reflecting the way they did in the sun, Sam was certain he was seeing things. But when he raised a hand to his eyes to see better, he gasped. Jack was smiling, an unnatural grin that almost seemed pasted on to his face. And his eyes weren't their normal brown color. They were yellow.

"Well, Sammy boy, I have to say. That's about the best news I've heard in a very long time."


	9. Chapter 9

"Jack?"

"Let him go."

Sam jumped at the unexpected voice. "Dad?"

"Sam, get behind me. Now."

Sam didn't hesitate, just got behind John and stayed there. John was holding a gun to Jack, but Sam could clearly see it wasn't Jack. Sam wanted to beg John not to hurt his friend, but he was so surprised at his father's sudden appearance and this new revelation of Jack's true identity that he couldn't move.

"How the hell did you find him?"

The fake Jack grinned. "You think I don't know that Bobby Singer's your best friend."

"Just answer the damn question."

"Why should I? It'll just make it that much easier for you to find me."

"I've already found you." John said. "Take a look at this gun. Does it look familiar?"

"I know perfectly well what that gun is. And I also know you only have a limited number of tries to kill me with it."

"And you know that how?"

"Because you just told me."

Sam, who was still standing behind his father shaking, didn't know how to process the scene in front of him. His father had appeared out of nowhere, no more than an hour after being told that his mom and dad weren't together anymore, and now, apparently, his best friend was some kind of monster. Before he knew what had happened, John fired the gun and Jack seemed to disappear in a cloud of black smoke.

"JACK!"

"Sam, my car's right over there. Get in it. Now."

"Dad, where'd he…"

But John shouted at Sam in a way that Sam had never seen before. He turned, got less than three inches from Sam's face, and screamed so hard he was red in the face.

"GET IN THE CAR! NOW!"

Sam, scared to death of this sudden turn in his father's mood, ran to the car and jumped in. John was right behind him, and took a moment to look around. He relaxed slightly when he saw they seemed to be safe for the moment, and since the car was covered in devil's traps, he leaned against the seat and took a deep breath.

"Dad?"

John looked over to the passenger seat and saw Sam, who was shaking and had two tears spilling down his face. John immediately regretted yelling at Sam the way he had, and reached over to clap a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you like that, bud. I really am. But we had to move."

"Where's Jack?" Sam asked. "Is he…is he dead?"

John swallowed hard. "Sam, I don't know how to tell you this. But Jack wasn't real."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I looked into him after the last time I was here. Son, I'm sorry, but he's not real."

"Of course he's real!"

"Sam, I'm sorry, but he was a hallucination." John said again.

"Dad, that's…" Sam sputtered, unable to wrap his mind around what he'd just been told.

"Sam, think about it. Do you and Jack have any mutual friends?"

"Well, no, but we go to different schools…"

"Have you ever seen any other kids over at his house?"

"No." Sam answered reluctantly.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I know you liked this kid. But the truth is…" John stopped talking, knowing he was about to cross a line with Sam that couldn't be undone.

"What, Dad?"

"Sam, that was thedemon that killed your brother. He created Jack and his parents as a hallucination to get close to you."

"Why?" Sam asked. "Why would he do that, Dad?"

"I don't know, bud." John answered honestly. "I'm still trying to figure that out."

"Why didn't Bobby catch on?"

"He didn't really spend a lot of time with Jack, did he?" John asked. "You two weren't friends for very long."

"Yeah. We mostly hung out in the backyard when Jack…when he came to visit."

"Sam, buddy, I really am sorry that this didn't work out." John said. "And that I yelled at you like that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

Sam nodded. "It's okay, Dad." A brief pause, and Sam asked, "Dad? Mom's at uncle Bobby's. She told me you two broke up. Is that true?"

"I'm afraid so."

"But why, Dad?"

"That's between me and your mother."

"But what about me? What if you and mom catch the demon and you can live your own lives? What then?"

"Sam, I'm sorry it didn't work between me and your mom. But I'm not discussing it with you." John said firmly. "Both of us will still come to see you…"

"Yeah, mom already told me that."

John normally would have snapped at Sam over his tone, but he was too tired. "I'm sorry, Sam. For everything."

"Will you just take me home, please?"

"Sure. Let's go."

To Sam's surprise, both John and Mary stayed for three days. They slept in separate rooms, John on the couch in the living room and Mary in the spare room down the hall. Twice they tried to take Sam out, once for dinner and once just on a walk around town, only to end up bickering back and forth with each other. Sam told them the second night not to 'bother coming if all you're gonna do is yell at each other'. Sam turned on his heel and ran back to Bobby's, burying himself in his room and refusing to come out and talk to either of them.

Mary was sitting on the couch later that night, pretending to read a book that she of course wasn't really reading. She was surprised that John had stayed behind this long, even if it was for Sam. She was aware of John looming above her, shifting his feet awkwardly, before he sat down on the couch next to her. Another long moment passed before he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Mary looked up, surprised. "Sorry? For what?"

"For saying that I wanted us to be over. I don't."

"Really?" Mary asked. "You're serious?"

"Yeah. I'm serious." John said. "That doesn't mean I'm not still pissed off."

"I know. And I get that."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Honestly? Because I was afraid you'd leave if you knew." Mary said.

John frowned. "I guess you were right there. You usually are."

Mary smiled, despite the guilt still eating into her.

"Did you know?" John asked. "Did you know what would happen?"

"No." Mary said firmly. "No, I didn't know. I didn't know he would kill Dean. If I had, I would have offered myself up for him instead."

"The demon just said that, what? He'd show up?"

"Yeah. He'd show up in my house ten years later. As long as I didn't disturb him, he said he wouldn't hurt anyone."

"You think Dean disturbed him?" John asked.

"Unintentionally. You remember how he always used to get up with Sam in the middle of the night?"

"You don't think the demon was after Sam, do you?"

Mary squirmed in her seat. "I've wondered. But I don't know."

John took a deep breath, running a hand over his face. "So we need to look into that."

"Yeah." Mary agreed. "Why don't we go up and check on Sam?"

"One thing first." John took Mary's hand and looked into her face so intently that Mary felt she was lost in them. "Just because I'm pissed at you right now doesn't mean that I don't love you. I always have, I always will. Okay?"

Mary nodded. "Okay."

"Is there anything else big that I need to know?"

"No. I swear."

"I believe you." John said. "What do you say we go tell Sam he can stop worrying?"

"Deal."

Sam was shocked to see his parents come to his room holding hands, but pleased to hear the short-lived separation was over. John and Mary stayed one more day, and had a short discussion with Bobby. Later that night, before Sam went to sleep, all three adults sat him down in the living room for a 'family meeting'.

"Okay, Sam. Here's the deal." Mary tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, knowing that Sam would probably be upset by the new rules. "From now on, we don't want you going over to friend's houses anymore."

"What?"

"Just listen, buddy. Please." Mary said. "You can still have friends. You can still see them after school. But we want you to bring them here to Bobby's."

Sam said nothing, thoroughly unsurprised by the new rules.

"You can still go places with them. The library, museum, movies, whatever. But whenever you do go with them, we need you to call Bobby at least once every couple of hours."

"Okay. I'll do it."

John, taken aback by Sam's easy acceptance of the new rules, shared a look with Mary and Bobby. "Sam? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Sam said quietly.

"Sam? Talk to us, honey. What's going on?"

"I know Jack wasn't real." Sam said sadly. "But I still miss him."

"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry. I know he was your friend."

"I just can't believe I got duped like that."

"That wasn't your fault." John assured him.

"Feels like it." Sam said. "Don't worry, guys. I won't break the rules. I don't plan on making too many more friends."

"Sam, listen to me. Don't let this stop you from living your life. We want you to be safe, but we want you to be a kid too." Mary said. "Promise me that. Okay? Please?"

"I'll try, Mom." Sam said half-heartedly.

Mary decided to take that, and encourage Sam a little more later on to keep trying to make friends. It scared her to death that it could happen again, that the demon could come back after Sam. But she was determined that Sam would have the life that she hadn't been able to have growing up, and the life that had been forcefully taken from Dean at much too early an age. The next morning, John and Mary headed out on another hunt, promising Sam that they'd work twice as hard to find and kill the demon from that point on.

When Sam was laying in bed that night, not quite asleep yet, he turned over and grabbed a photo that he kept beside his bed. It was one that he couldn't quite explain his connection to, but he didn't feel like he could let it go. He was a newborn, with Mary on a hospital bed, John standing beside them, and four-year-old Dean holding him and grinning so hard that his eyes were closed. The thought crossed his mind that this moment, frozen in time, that he was holding in his hand right now, was probably the happiest his family had ever been. Sam put the photo back on the nightstand and turned to go to sleep. Dean, satisfied that Sam was safe now, patted him on the back and said,

"Good night, Sammy. Love you."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This is the last chapter for this story. It's basically the Stanford fight. I am planning a sequel to it, which takes place during the Supernatural series. Dean is **_**not **_**in this chapter, but will be in the sequel. I have a plan for another story first, though, so it may be a little while for the sequel. Thanks guys! **

Mary wondered what it was that Sam was so excited about telling them. Despite another setback in finding and killing the demon that killed Dean, she and John were in a good place. Their relationship had never been stronger, both between themselves and with Sam. He updated them a few times a week on what was going on in his life, with the big exception of whatever this huge announcement was. John pulled into Bobby's driveway, stopped the car, and turned to Mary and asked the question he'd been wondering about since they'd started the journey here.

"What do you think the big announcement is?"

"I don't know." Mary said. "How about you?"

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend or something?"

"I don't know. I think he would've told me about that over the phone."

"Yeah. You're right." John laughed when he noticed the windows a pair of eyes peeking at them through Bobby's window. "I think we have a spy."

"Well, let's go in and find out."

Ten minutes later, Sam had his parents and Bobby seated on the couch in the living room. He was so excited about something he was practically vibrating. Mary tried not to laugh; obviously whatever he had to tell them was very important, and she didn't want to make him feel bad.

"Sammy, what in the world is going on?" she asked.

"Okay. Sorry. I'm just excited." Sam said. "I've actually got two things to tell you. First, you know I'm graduating this weekend?" Everyone nodded, and, seeming to defy the odds, Sam's smile grew even bigger. "Well, I'm valedictorian. I'm giving the speech at graduation."

Mary was not all surprised, but put on her best acting routine. "Sammy, that's amazing!"

"Good going, bud." John said.

"That's my boy." Bobby agreed.

"So what's your other news?" Mary asked.

Sam took a deep breath. He had led with the valedictorian news, hoping to soften the blow of his actual news. He wasn't sure how his parents would react. He just hoped that they would actually be happy for him.

"Okay. Please, both of you, just listen to me and don't freak out."

"Sam, what is it?" Mary asked. "I thought you said it was good news."

"It is." Sam said. "But I sort of…broke a promise to you and Dad, and I don't want you to get mad."

_College_, Mary thought. _He applied to college and got in._ A pit formed in Mary's stomach. She and John had had a long discussion with Sam the summer before his senior year about college. They promised him he could go, but they both wanted him to take a gap year and either stay home at Bobby's or attend community college in the area for the first year. It gave her and John one more year to find and kill the demon, with Sam staying safe at Bobby's. She felt John tense beside her, and reached out to hold his hand. _Don't yell_, she willed him. _Hear him out._

"Just say it, Sam." Mary said.

"Well, this'll tell it better than I can." Sam handed a piece of paper to his mother, infectious smile still decorating his face.

_Mr. Winchester,_

_We have received your application and are pleased to offer you admission to Stanford University's class of 2006. Congratulations and welcome!_

_Due to your outstanding academic record and stellar recommendations, as well as in response to the financial aid package you sent us, we are also prepared to offer you a full scholarship to pursue your academic studies. Details about how to receive and keep your scholarship will be mailed to you in the weeks to come. The only thing needed from you at this point is a $100 deposit. The purpose of this deposit is to hold your spot in the upcoming class. The due date for this deposit is July 31__st__, and should be paid by cash, check, or credit card to our admissions office. The address is at the top of this letter, and we will send an email confirmation of receipt to the address you provided for us. _

_Information about orientation, registration, and housing will be mailed to you after receipt of your deposit. Should you have any further questions, please don't hesitate to call us at the number listed above, write to us, or email our admissions department. _

_We look forward to seeing you in the fall._

When a stunned Mary simply handed John the letter, Sam got worried. Surely his parents weren't _really_ that upset about this. He'd been handed a full scholarship to an Ivy League university. Wasn't that something to celebrate?

"I already sent them the deposit, so you don't have to worry about that. Everything's covered-housing, including for the summer, classes, food, books, all that. I might need a little money now and then for stuff like groceries and school supplies, but if that's a problem, I could try to get a part time job…"

"Sam, it's not that. The money's not the problem." Mary sighed. "Honey, I thought we agreed you'd take a gap year."

"Mom, I don't want to take a gap year. I _want _to go to school. This is an awesome opportunity for me."

"I understand that, Sam…"

When John handed the letter back to Bobby, he said simply, "Sam, you're not going."

"What?" Sam asked. "What do you mean I'm not going?"

"I mean exactly what I just said. You made an agreement with me and your mother, and we're not going to allow you to break it. The only reason we allowed you to move in with Bobby is because he can protect you too. If you're across the country, none of us can protect you."

"I don't need protection. I'll be in class and studying. How is that dangerous?" Sam asked, suddenly not nervous and shy now but angry and resentful.

"You're not going, Sam." 

"Mom?"

"I'm sorry, honey. Your dad's right. It's too dangerous." Mary felt like a spectacularly horrible mother for denying this to Sam, but John _was_ right-Sam being away was far too dangerous and would likely get him killed if he was too far away from them.

"So you'd take this away from me, this awesome opportunity that might never come my way again, because you're afraid of what _might_ happen."

"Sam, let's call Stanford. We can try to go there and explain the situation, that you can't attend this year and maybe come next year…"

Sam scoffed. "Please let me be there when you tell the Stanford board of admissions that you're trying to make me stay home because you're afraid a demon is going to kill me."

"And that's why you have to stay." John growled. "Because you don't appreciate the seriousness of this."

"I do, Dad, but come on…"

"NO!" John shouted, rising to his feet finally. "No, Sam. The answer's no. You're not leaving."

"Sam, please, please just try to understand." Mary said, attempting to defuse John's anger and impatience with some understanding. "If things were better, safer, your father and I would go down there with you ourselves. But it is just too dangerous."

Sam took the letter back from Bobby, who had said next to nothing in the entire exchange. "Do you agree with them?"

"This ain't my fight, Sam." Bobby said, and couldn't look Sam in the eye when he said it.

Sam was crushed. He'd thought for sure that Bobby would be on his side. That he'd tell Mary and John they were being completely unreasonable, and that they needed to let him go. But apparently even that was too much to hope for.

"Great." Sam said, fuming. "Just great."

"Sam, I'm sorry. We just can't lose you too." Mary was begging now, pleading for him to understand.

"Don't." Sam turned back to Mary, eyes swimming with frustrated tears. "Don't tell me how sorry you are. Don't tell me you're taking something that I may never get to do again because it'll keep me safe. You have the choice here. You can choose to be right, and I stay here and be miserable and never talk to any of you again, or you can choose to be happy, and let me go and live my life."

"Please sit down, Sam." Mary said calmly. "Please, just sit down and listen to me without interrupting. Please."

Though his father was clearly still fuming at Sam's attitude towards the whole situation, Mary was trying hard to keep the peace. Sam decided to listen to her, though he had no intention of actually staying behind. He pulled the chair from behind Bobby's desk and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sam, this isn't just about finding Dean's killer. We think the demon might be after you too. But if you're across the country, and he comes after you, we can't come and protect you. We just can't take that chance, honey. I'm sorry. Do you understand?"

"No. No, I don't. Do you get how amazing this is? How big of an opportunity it is? And you're asking me to give it up because of what _might _happen."

"I know it's frustrating. But I promise you, Sam, we kill that demon and your dad and I will do whatever we have to to be able to send you to college after that. If we both have to work every day for the rest of our lives so that you can finish your education, I swear to you we will. Just not right now."

"That's all good and everything, mom, but what happens if you never find him? Or if you don't find him for ten years? Twenty? Am I just supposed to stay here at Bobby's for the rest of my life?" 

"It won't take that long." Mary promised.

"How do you know that, Mom?" Sam asked. "Tell me how you know, how you can guarantee it won't take that long."

"You know I can't do that." Mary said.

"Then don't tell me it won't take that long. You've already been doing this for seventeen and a half years. My entire life. And I won't let you keep me trapped here for the rest of it."

"What exactly does that mean?" John growled. 

"It means I'm going to Stanford. I wanted your blessing, but I'm going either way."

"You'd really leave without our okay?" Mary asked. "Sam, please. You're so smart. Just think about it. We can protect you so much better here than if you're far away."

"I must not be that smart, Mom. Because I thought for sure I'd have support on this. But I guess I should have known better than to expect some support from my _parents._"

"Sam, get up to your bedroom." Bobby said from the couch.

"Bobby?"

"Just go up to your room. I'm gonna talk to your mom and dad." Sam didn't waste time, just headed up to his room. Bobby turned back to John and Mary. "You two need to let him do this."

"Bobby, we can't. What if…?"

"Sam's right. It's not right to take this from him. He'll never get an opportunity like this again. We can work together and find a way to keep him safe. Send hunters to check on him…"

"Bobby, no. He stays with you or he travels with us." John said. "If you don't want him to stay…"

"I didn't say that, you jackass." Bobby said. "But I think you know this as well as I do. I know you're worried about losing him. But if you keep him here, you're gonna lose him anyway."

"The hell we will." John said.

"John, he's right." Mary said. "Bobby, do you have enough hunters to keep an eye on him?"

"If nobody can go, I'll check on him myself." Bobby promised. "Mary, you know if you keep him here, he'll just leave the first chance he gets. Would you rather know and be sure of where he is or hope that he made it there safe?"

"I can't believe this. You're really gonna let him go."

"Yes. I am." Mary said. "If we don't, he'll hate us and he'll never listen to us again."

"Fine." John said. Any other time, Mary might have laughed at how much John looked like Sam when he crossed his arms petulantly over his chest.

"Come on, Bobby. Let's go tell him."

Mary and Bobby walked up the stairs, expecting to find a sulking Sam sitting on his bed, or perhaps angrily throwing books or things around his room. There was no sound when they made it to the door of Sam's room, so Mary knocked softly and waited for a response. When none came, Mary opened the door and walked inside. The covers on Sam's bed were pulled back, and a duffel bag that Sam kept under the bed was missing. On the bed was a note, hastily written and turned up so it was visible.

_Don't follow me. _


End file.
